it has time to settle
by bobtheacorn
Summary: After leaving Punk Hazard, Sanji's leg isn't broken per say, but Chopper still wants him to stay off of it as much as possible. Thus the Sunny gets derailed, and shenanigans are inevitable. / 12 Days of Christmas Prompts
1. freshly-laid blue

-x-

it has time to settle  
 _freshly-laid blue_

-x-

This busted leg could not have possibly happened at a worse time.

Sanji stands at the kitchen sink, fuming about it, trying to finish up the dishes from lunch. Mentally, he counts heads as he sets each plate or bowl in the drying rack; nine Straw Hats, one allied Warlord of the Sea, two Wano samurai, and that nutjob ""scientist"" chained to the balustrade on the deck. That's a full house and then some, and this goddamn leg…

It's not that it hurts. Pain is something that Sanji is used to, and he's had enough of this particular kind of injury to recognize a minor bone fracture that will heal just fine on its own in a couple of weeks. But Chopper will give him shit about not saying something sooner. And the damn thing _burns._ He's already pulled his boots off and propped them against the counter back here, out of sight incase anyone comes in, but his pant leg is feeling tight and bending his knee to take some of the pressure off it only makes the fabric pinch.

That's not good….

Chopper chooses that moment to amble through the door, seeking respite from all the excitement going on outside and the stiflingly warm weather. He pauses underneath the air vent in the ceiling with his head tipped back and his eyes closed, relaxing into the cool breeze. Sanji drops the serving platter he's scrubbing back into the soapy water, sends it sloshing up the sides of the sink.

 _"Shit."_

He pulls his apron off, throws it down.

Chopper opens his eyes at the outburst and looks over. Before he can ask if something is wrong, Sanji steps around the counter, his hand braced against it because, goddamnit, he needs the support. The tiny doctor notices his limp immediately, "Sanji! Your leg!"

"Yeah," Sanji says, grimacing.

"Is it broken?! Why didn't you say something!?"

"Didn't think it was that bad."

"It's swollen! Sit down right now!"

Sanji pulls back a chair at the table and sits without argument, sticking his leg out for Chopper to examine. He has to undo his belt, shimmy out of his slacks, and literally peel them off his leg like a goddamn banana or something because they're too tight to just pull up to his knee. His sock leaves a red, harsh-looking indent behind when he peels that off, too, and Chopper is visibly torn between sympathy and irritation. He picks up Sanji's leg carefully, running his hoof along the bone.

His nerve endings are all sensitive, so Sanji sucks in a breath when the small motion burns, jerks his leg on reflex when Chopper presses against the break.

Chopper settles on being irritated.

"You're staying off it the rest of the day!" Sanji gestures helplessly toward the sink because he has clean-up to do, and Chopper shakes his head like he can read the cook's mind. "No way you're doing dishes! You have to put your leg up!"

Sanji drops his hand into his lap, grinning sheepishly, "Worth a shot."

Chopper grabs a pillow from the sofa, pushes up another chair, and only scampers off to his office to collect some things _after_ Sanji lifts his fractured leg in both hands and obediently rests it on the pillow, and promises not to get up. He's gone for a couple of minutes, leaving the cook sitting in the galley, lower half stripped down to his shorts. Sanji works the knot out of his tie, pulls it off. He stares at his leg, puffy and red from knee to toe, bruise blooming in the middle; glances toward the sink where the dish water is getting cold and the counters need to be wiped down; and thinks, _Shit…._

This is going to kill him.

He glances at Chopper's office door. It's open, and he can hear Chopper digging through drawers and moving things around. Sanji hopes he's not getting the plaster for a cast.

Outside, the whooping and hollering from the others picks up suddenly. Before Sanji can wonder what all the excitement is about (he can tell by the pitch of Usopp's voice and Luffy's laughter that it's nothing dangerous), Chopper comes back into the galley with his stethoscope around his neck and a little bag in his hooves, and his heart sinks.

Chopper's ears flick toward the door, curious, but he's set on his task. He drops his bag beside Sanji on the table and goes around the pull a cooling pack out of the freezer.

"We'll have to wait for the swelling to come down before I set it," the little doctor says.

He places the large pack across the middle of Sanji's femur, where the swelling is the worst. It's an instant relief. Sanji adjusts it with one hand, patting the cool gel inside so it spreads out over more of the area, reaches down and picks his slacks up from the floor with his other hand to fish out his cigarettes and lighter. Chopper carries a chair around the counter and washes the rest of the dishes himself while they're waiting. Sanji smokes and rubs his thumb over the pattern of his lighter.

A couple of ominous _thuds_ make the Sunny sway. Something that sounds suspiciously like cannon fire makes them both a little worried, and then Nami screams. But it's just their idiot captain's name in anger, followed by laughter, shouts, and cheers. Chopper shoots Sanji a Look. The chef grins and raises his hands placatingly, sinking down into a slouch to prove he has no intention of sprinting out the door to see what's distressing their lovely navigator.

He's not a shithead like the swordsman. He knows to follow the doctor's orders. (Sanji might cause a fuss when he's cracked a rib or two and he's not allowed to smoke, yeah, but his leg's not attached to his lungs so he's got nothing to complain about.)

Besides, the crew is just causing a ruckus, same as always.

It's nothing to worry about.

Chopper is tentatively feeling out the extent of the break, several minutes later, when something fissures through the galley. A ripple of air, or light, something filmy and almost tangible, slides across the floor. It passes over Sanji and Chopper both, the surrounding surfaces. It makes them look around in alarm, because it is eerily similar to the feeling they had right before they all got scrambled around on Punk Hazard.

A chair on the other side of the table vanishes, and before either of them can flinch, Luffy appears in its place about a foot in the air. Whatever momentum he had built up before the switch is still in effect - he slams his whole body face-first into the floor, a huge puff of snow going up around him like a cloud. It has time to settle, dusting the floor and the tabletop, before Luffy groans at having all the breath knocked out of him. He recovers quickly enough and climbs to his feet, laughter sticking a little in his chest as he bounds toward the door, yelling, "Traffy, do it again!"

Sanji breathes out a line of smoke, "Idiot." He would try to jump on the least friendly guy on the ship and then think it's fun when he gets brutally rebuffed.

Chopper turns around, Sanji's leg still braced between his hooves, "Luffy! Is that snow?!"

That good old Grand Line weather must be at work.

Luffy's dumb giggle follows him across the galley, "Yeah, there's piles of it now!" He yanks the door open, trips to a stop. Beyond him, where before the air had been almost rippling with heat, there are heavy drifts of white snow falling on the deck. Luffy is staring at Sanji, though, and his mouth pulls into a frown, brow knotting. "Hey, whatsa matter?"

"It's fine," Sanji says.

"He needs a cast," Chopper amends, and Sanji pulls in a deep drag off his cigarette, rolling his eyes, "But it's not that bad. As long as he stays off it for a while, he should be fine."

Luffy hesitates in the door, letting waves of cold air waft inside, as if it wasn't already chilly enough. He closes it a little, his hand on the latch.

"You can't come outside?" he asks, trying to process.

"Not until the swelling comes down," Chopper says, "He has to stay off his leg as much as possible - "

"It won't stop me from cooking." Sanji says this stubbornly to Chopper more than he says it to reassure Luffy. The dishes are one thing, meals are another. He's got one job on this ship and unless he's bleeding out on the deck, completely immobilized, or dead, he's going to cook. He lifts a grin at his captain when Chopper huffs, but doesn't protest. "Don't worry about it."

Luffy laughs, pulls open the door again, "Okay," and bounds outside.

Belatedly the heat kicks on, adjusting to the temperature outside.

Sanji is halfway through his third cigarette, waiting for the damn plaster of his freshly-laid blue cast to dry, when they hear more thumping right outside the galley door. Luffy kicks it open without warning. Him and Zoro squeeze through the door together, grinning like devils. That's never a good sign. They're pulling what looks like a bulky bedsheet behind them, trying to force it in through the door.

Chopper realizes what they're doing before Sanji does. The reindeer yells and shifts into heavy point, lifting his large hands to protect the cast. Sanji just stares stupidly while the two idiots struggle. And then he barely has time to bark, _"You assholes better not!"_ before Zoro and Luffy give the sheet one final heave and launch about five tons of snow into the galley, burying him and Chopper both.

Chopper resurfaces first, giddy and angry rolled into one emotion; he loves snow, maybe more than Luffy does, but he has sense and priorities.

"You guys! The cast isn't finished setting yet!"

Luffy is giggling so hard he can't get his breath, his bare hands raw and red when he digs Sanji's stubborn, disgruntled, freezing ass out of the snow with Chopper's help. (Zoro's laughter is loud and short as he goes to get himself a beer out of the fridge, and Sanji gives him the finger because he can't give him a kick to the goddamn face.)

"You couldn't come and play in the snow," Luffy tells Sanji gleefully, "So I thought we'd bring it in to you."

"When did I say I wanted to play in the snow with your dumb ass?" Sanji grouses, annoyed that his cigarette was snuffed out and that he's going to have to sit through getting _another_ cast put on if this one is ruined.

Because the day just Won't End, Usopp charges into through the open door with a defiant-looking Momonosuke trailing him, wielding a huge hose.

"DID SOMEONE SAY SNOW?"

 _"NO!"_

Somewhere outside, Franky turns the hose on and blasts snow into the galley anyway.

-x-

(A/n) I wanted to do a 12 Days of Christmas thing, so I grabbed onto a prompt list with both my damn hands and i'm going to do my best to crunch one out for every day until Christmas Eve! These are probably going to just be loosely connected drabbles, I'm trying to be fun and self-indulgent so I'm sort of throwing my inhibitions into the ether at this point. Expect edits and pls point out any type-os - i'm writing on my phone 90% of the time now and it likes to auto-correct!

Here we go! Happy Holidays, kids!

-bobTAC


	2. stretched and glossy

-x-

it has time to settle  
 _stretched and glossy_

-x-

Usopp has never been great at knitting. Sewing? No problem. His mom taught him how to do basic stitching when she was first on bedrest, before she got really sick and while she was still able to sit up and do a few things. He's always at least had to be acceptable at it - along with fixing things, and cooking, and budgeting, and taking care of himself in general - because she couldn't be around to do it for him forever. That was just the reality.

So he can knit. Sure.

But it's not great.

And here Nami is, shaking a knitted sweater in front of his face.

 _"Look what he's done to it!"_ she demands, as if Usopp can't see the damage their captain has done to this hapless piece of clothing (probably while Nami was wearing it, which is where all this residual fury is coming from and why she's currently flouncing around in her leggings and bra).

The once-taut loops are all stretched and glossy in places, busted in others, and there is a hole in the shoulder that Nami thrusts her entire arm through, trembling and doing that growling/screaming thing through her clenched teeth. There is no telling how much the sweater cost. Usopp takes it from her and runs his fingers over the worst of the damage.

 _Maybe_ this is something he can fix.

Whatever she paid for the brand (sale or no sale), the product itself is just regular old dyed cotton; an orange five shades lighter than Nami's hair that fades into a rich pink.

"Don't you have about three more exactly like this in your closet?" Usopp ventures cautiously.

"Yes," Nami says, prickling up in the way only a woman (and Sanji) can about clothes, "But this one is one of my favorites!"

Sometimes Usopp thinks he's too practical for his own good. He doesn't make the distinction, and shrugs, still feeling along the soft rows of messed up stitching in the sweater. A string of yarn come free under his attention, frayed at the ends.

"All I'm saying is, it might be easier to just redye one of the others. I dunno if I can fix this."

"Well, you should try!" Nami says, as if he _should. Obviously._

"I'm not a seamstress, I'm a sniper!"

Because they're in the galley seeking warmth from the impromptu blizzard and the rocking waves of ice outside, there's quite a crowd gathered around for tea and snacks. Kin'emon leans closer over the table to peer at the sweater with an appraising eye. Even though he allegedly disapproves of such vulgarity in a woman's dress (It's barely two-thirds of a sweater, cropped at the midriff), he still offers, "I could replicate the garment, if you like."

Nami folds her arms.

"So it can vanish the second I take it off," she says dryly, eyeing the samurai, "Fantastic."

"Hmph! Such petulance! I was only trying to lend my assistance!"

Sitting at the counter behind them, Luffy is the walking talking definition of petulance. He's been hearing nothing but Nami harassing him about this sweater since he ruined it this morning throwing her into a pile of snow when it was gentle and fun outside. (He grabs too rough with his calloused fingers and Nami understandably struggled to save her dignity. The sweater never had a chance.)

"That sweater was ugly anyway," Luffy says, just to be difficult, cramming his pinky into his nose.

Nami shrieks at him,

" _YOUR_ CLOTHES ARE UGLY!"

"You picked 'em out!"

"YOU WON'T WEAR ANYTHING THAT HAS AN ENTIRE PANT LEG, LUFFY, _DO NOT TALK TO ME ABOUT FASHION!"_

"Okay, okay," Usopp simmers, trying to diffuse the tension, "I'll see what I can do to fix the sweater, alright? Everybody relax!"

Nami gives him a 180, blinding smile.

" _Thank_ you, Usopp. You're the best!"

She shoots Luffy an absolutely murderous look, and he sticks his tongue out at her. Beside him, also at the counter, Law is starting look like he regrets his choice of allies again - he always looks tense and a little pissed off, though, so it's difficult for Usopp to tell if that's emotional exhaustion due to proximity with Luffy or just his resting face. (Or maybe he's stressed about the situation. Usopp is definitely stressed about the Situation. He still can't settle on whether he's grateful or more nervous that it's been momentarily postponed.)

The galley door opens and Zoro enters, staggered by the huge gust of snow that comes in behind him out of the dark and hits him like a solid wall. A roar accompanies it before he slams the door closed, grimacing and shivering, rubbing his biceps.

"That's bracing," he says, voice pulled out deep from his chest and stretched thin, like he isn't turning blue right in front of their eyes.

Nami perks up again, props her hip against the table and gives the swordsman a wide smile that has him instantly on guard. "Zoro~ Since it's so bracing, go get another sweater for me. There are a few laid out on my bed, it doesn't matter which."

Zoro stares at her, stomping the slush off his boots by the door.

"No."

"I'll knock some of your debt off."

"...Fine."

Luffy laughs, kicking Law when he swings his feet, animosity forgotten.

Zoro turns right back around and yanks open the door. Nami leaps up, "Wait! I don't want it to be soaked!" and runs to the pantry to grab a handful of plastic bags for him to wrap it in.

 _"This is killing me,"_ Sanji complains from where he has his casted leg propped up on the sofa. Chopper won't let him jump up at Nami's every beck and call, so he glares at Zoro. "Put a coat on, you dumb bastard, if you get lost on your way to the cabin and freeze to death Nami won't get her sweater!"

Zoro disappears out into the mawing wind and snow, the the plastic wrap and a coat, courtesy of Kin'emon's devil fruit "magic". Usopp starts pulling small tools out of his knapsack, trying off the loose ends so the hole in her allegedly ugly sweater doesn't grow.

He gives Nami a withering look.

"He borrowed that money from you _and_ gave it back two YEARS ago and you don't even have the decency to be ashamed of yourself."

Nami smiles brightly, taking her seat again.

"Nope!"

-x-

(A/n) /slides in just under the bar. ahoy!

-bobTAC


	3. propensity for jumping

-x-

it has time to settle  
 _propensity for jumping_

-x-

As with most things they've encounter on the seas of the New World, Chopper is floored by the sheer size of this shopping mall. It's essentially a stone tower descending into the ocean off the icy shores of an island made up mostly of pack ice and permafrost. It's a nice change of pace if you ask him. For the most part, the islands tend to be warm (sometimes too warm) and sunny. Natural winter islands are rare, so Chopper is enjoying this stint of freezing weather while he can.

The mall itself doesn't have a very unique aesthetic - aside from the ropes and ropes of colorful lights and prickly ornamental flowers here and there, it looks exactly the same as every other shopping district Chopper has seen so far. It's just very, very big.

Chopper sticks his head in between the balcony railings, staring down into the flashing lower levels. The sound of all kinds of music cascades upward, mashing together so they're difficult to distinguish from one another, a thousand voices chorusing their private conversations for all to hear. Beside him, climbing up onto the rail to lean out over the impressive drop with one hand resting on his straw-hat, Luffy's chuckling rises above it all.

"This is pretty cool," he says, "But where's all the food? A place this big's gotta have somewhere to eat, right?"

Luffy inhales deeply through his nose, head swinging around as he puts both hands on the upper rail and leans further out. Chopper's own nose twitches, but there are too many smells. Most of them yummy and nice, mixed in with the smell of wax. It's not food, only candles and perfumes that he smells.

He wonders if Luffy can tell the difference.

Usopp climbs up beside their captain, legs braced against the rail. He pulls his sniping goggles down and scans the floors below.

"We're trying to find our way outta here and you're worried about your stomach," Usopp says with no real malice.

"But it's _empty_ ," Luffy complains.

The two of him ignore his whining. Chopper asks, "Didn't we come in on level four?"

"Yeah, but the tide's gone up, so the exit moved. We might be able to get back out here if we wait a few hours..."

They glance around, looking for Robin. She standing at the foot of a large pillar with a map of the mall posted over the surface. It's color-coded by department, numbered by floor, and written in minimalistic script that has their archaeologist thumbing through a small black booklet for a proper translation. She has one shopping bag looped around her arm.

Usopp and Chopper are carrying the rest (Luffy can't be trusted with them).

Luffy's feet leave the bottom rail the further out over the open air he leans, craning to see down below, and Usopp absently grabs the back of his jeans, his own hip propped against the rail. He calls, "Have you figured that thing out yet, Robin?"

She smiles at them over her shoulder.

"I believe so." She closes her little book and points to the lower middle section of the map, filled in with yellow. "The food court is six floors below us."

 _"Six!"_

"Oh boy!"

"Robin, you're supposed to be looking for the exit…!"

Usopp looks nervous about having a grip on their captain now. Luffy's propensity for jumping off of things with his friends in tow, regardless of their peace of mind, is enough to shoot fear into even the sturdiest of allies - even Zoro won't hold onto him if they're really high up and something their captain wants is below. He doesn't let go, though.

Robin only laughs softly.

Luffy's arm shoots out, and Chopper suffers a mild heart attack even though he's just pointing.

His voice lifts into a bellow,

"IS THAT BREAD GLOWING!"

Chopper and Usopp both look down, following Luffy's emphatically pointing finger to the balcony right underneath them, across the way. A couple of kids are sitting on a bench, biting into big round loaves of bread that are glowing faintly, matching the lights over head. A series of colors that segue from blue, to green, to red, to purple, and then around again. Robin comes to stand beside them and offers an explanation of surprise, "That must be the light bread that I've heard people talking about. I didn't think they meant it literally lights up like a bulb."

Luffy plants his feet on the rail for balance again, cups his hands around his mouth, and yells and waves to get the attention of the kids. Usopp holds onto his waistband for dear life. Robin taps one of the kids when their captain's caterwauling fails, and Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy all mime eating bread and raise their hands and arms in question, wanting to know where to get some. The kids laugh and run the the balcony, pointing further down.

Really, they should have guessed.

Luffy swings his leg over the rail and drops before Usopp can think to let go of him, one hand clinging to the rail to slow his descent, the other wrapped around Usopp's waist. Luffy's laugh ("Sanji'll love some a those!") and Usopp's pleading scream ("LUFFY, WE CAN'T BRING HIM ANYTHING IF WE'RE DEAD!) ring out over all the music and voices as they plunge down several floors- the kids across the way watch with mouths open in awe, laughing and shrieking and clapping their hands.

Chopper puts his head back between the rails, relieved and disappointed.

"Luffy! Usopp! I wanted some!"

Robin laughs and touches his hat, scooping up the few bags Usopp left behind, "Well take the elevator, Chopper."

-x-

-BobTAC


	4. something solid

-x-

it has time to settle  
 _something solid_

-x-

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Nami asks it pointedly, and Sanji stops halfway out of his seat, one hand propped against the table so his weight isn't on his casted foot. He looks appropriately ashamed when he spots her staring at him with narrowed eyes, twirling her pen between her fingers. She's the only other one in the galley. Maybe he thought she would be so absorbed with her cartography notes that she wouldn't notice him getting up.

She knows it must be driving him up the wall just to sit here, but those are the doctor's orders.

"Nah," Sanji tries, "I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You're standing."

"I'm just going to the fridge, Nami."

He would be annoyed with anyone else. With Nami, he maintains that almost-pacifying tone. Nami had volunteered to stay behind on the ship with him instead of venturing out into the blistering cold (even if it meant shopping) because she knew he would listen to her and stay off his leg. But he _must_ be feeling restless.

Sanji hops to the counter anyway, keeping his injured foot off the floor, probably only because she's watching. Nami sets her pen down and sits up straighter, says, "Should you be walking all the way around the counter?"

"No ma'am, and I'm not."

Sanji pulls himself up to sit on the counter, grins at her and swings his legs around, dropping to the floor on the other side and landing on his good foot. That's cheating and he knows it.

Nami _hmphs_ as Sanji punches in the code and opens the fridge door.

"What are you after?" she asks, suspicious when Sanji only goes _Um_. She listens to his continued rummaging, "You're not cooking tonight. Robin and the others said they would eat over there and then bring us something back."

Honestly, they lucked out there. Even if it is _beyond_ cold, it's nice to have a place to anchor down as opposed to the open sea where anything (Or anyone) could get the jump on them. The labyrinth of stone towers and tunnels covering the island is definitely an interesting place to house several cities. And cities are the perfect place for a bunch of high-profile pirates to lay low for a while.

Sanji says, "Yeah, I know," and doesn't resurface from the refrigerator.

It doesn't bother him not to cook, so she doesn't understand the frustrated noise he makes a moment later. Sanji pokes his head around the door, looking toward the pantry, shooting an irritated glance at his bum leg. He flashes Nami a smile.

"Okay," he says, "You got me. Sorry, Nami, I can't just sit here. Will you look and see how many bags of flour I've got?"

"Because you were _so_ honest, I suppose I can take a look," Nami says, rolling her eyes and pushing back her charts and notes, sliding to her feet.

She paces across to the pantry and goes inside. There are five enormous bags of flour stacked in the corner - as big as they can make them. Nami doesn't even pretend that she can lift one of these. She happens to scan one of the lower shelves next, though, and spots a row of much smaller packages.

"You've got a bunch of these little ones," she calls, carrying one to the doorway.

Sanji leans across the counter.

"Great! Thank you, Nami! Can I ask you to grab a couple of other things while you're in there?"

"What other things?"

She hears more than sees Sanji pulling pans out of the cabinets - the metal bangs lightly on the countertops - and things out of the fridge. He makes a distracted noise while he thinks, wiping down the pans, and then fires off a list of about fifteen ingredients. Nami automatically ducks back into the pantry when he starts naming them. She comes back to the door after the fifth item, looking at him incredulously with her arms already loaded with almonds, nutmeg, and brown sugar.

"What are you doing, exactly, Mr. Supposed To Be Staying Off His Leg!"

"I don't have to stand to bake," he says, surprisingly defensive, "Just lemme preheat the ovens - "

"No, sit down, let me do it," Nami sighs, racing out of the pantry. If he wanted to beat her to the oven, he could. Sanji is still standing obligingly in front of the fridge, though, when she drops the stuff she's carrying on the counter and bounces over to the oven, dusting her hands over her skirt. "Chopper will yell at us both if he comes back and catches you with that foot not elevated! What do I set it on?"

"350. Thanks, Nami."

"Now what else do you need?" She shoots him a look. "Sit at the table and I'll bring it to you."

"This is not the first time I've had a busted leg, you know," is the only complaint Sanji offers and he does it lightly, hoping the counter one more time.

Once he's got something to do with his hands other than fidget with his cigarettes, Sanji's mood lifts dramatically. He's obviously not comfortable with the flipped script - Nami waiting on him for a change - and he actually has the nerve to apologize for being a bother, he's just bored, honest.

Nami swats him in the shoulder and tells him not to be so stupid; brings him a mixing bowl and other utensils and lays all his ingredients out on the table within easy reach. Sanji props his foot up in the chair across from him and sits back with a huge wad of cookie dough between his hands once he mixes it into something solid. He smokes and laughs while he talks to Nami, kneading the rest of the flour in good with his thumbs, pinching off chunks to drop on the waiting pan.

Nami packs her map-making things away and rolls the cookies into neater shapes. The dough sticks to her hands, but not to Sanji's. She slices tangerines into little chunks, pressing them lovingly into dips of dough; stands by the warm oven and watches them rise through the window until Sanji tells her to take them out without even looking at a timer.

By the time the others get back, hauling food and shopping bags alike, they've made several dozen cookies. Crunchy almond ones. Chewy tangerine ones. A few filled with so much rum it's enough to knock someone over just popping open the container.

It's a nice change of pace, is all.

-x-

(A/n) It's late but it's here!

-bobTAC


	5. grumbling and shuffling

-x-

it has time to settle  
 _grumbling and shuffling_

-x-

Something has spooked Momonosuke and he's stuck in his dragon form again. Maybe it's because the devil fruit is artificial (a prototype, no less) or because he's so young, but he has a difficult time changing back when he wants to. He has to really concentrate, or not think about it all so that it just sort of happens on its own. Chopper can't decide what the reason is. He's the only other zoan type on the ship, and he's never had a problem changing back and forth on a whim as it suits him.

It was also something he had to embrace quickly early on. He would have died if he hadn't.

So maybe that's all the difference there is.

Regardless, Momo is young (and a little haughty) so Chopper does his best to be nice. He only woke up because he could hear Momonosuke whimpering, and the tiny reindeer has been sitting up in bed, groggily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, for about five minutes or so, wondering what to do.

The blanket under the kotatsu trembles.

Chopper's ears twitch, catching the faint sound, and then he hops down from the bunk and makes his way silently across the cabin. Momonosuke's snout is just poking out from under the blanket. His nostrils flare, sniffling, and he withdraws as soon as Chopper approaches. The kotatsu isn't on, but it's still way too warm for Chopper to have any inclination to crawl under there with him. Instead, he settles down on one of the plump cushions nearby.

"Everything alright under there?" he tries, careful not to sound too worried.

"I am fine!" comes the harsh and undeniably weepy reply, "Leave me be!"

The whole table quivers imperceptibly. It makes Chopper wonder why Momo didn't climb into bed with his father, rather than come and hide somewhere by himself. Chopper rocks back on his cushion.

"Okay," he says, using the voice that Usopp uses when he's trying to coax someone into doing something by making it sound like it was their idea all along. It's a hard voice to do, but Chopper thinks he manages. But he doesn't know what to follow it up with that might entice Momo into opening up to him, so the word hangs in the air alone.

The cabin door opens behind him and Chopper turns to peer over the sofa. The trembling beneath the table grows more tense, squeezed into smaller, infrequent bursts.

Sanji limps in, trailing cigarette smoke, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. He stops just inside the door and holds it open with his foot. His cast stands out in the faint moonlight. He's not supposed to be up walking around, and Chopper starts to say something, but just as he opens his mouth, Luffy gallops in with his arms loaded up with cookie tins and a jug of milk, grinning and puffing, "Thanks, Sanji!" under his breath in an uncharacteristic attempt to not wake the others.

"Just keep it down."

Sanji doesn't sound bothered. He lets the door fall closed, snuffs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the nearby table, and climbs back into bed. Chopper's nose tingles at the crisp smell of tobacco. He has no trouble seeing the others in the dark. Luffy doesn't spot Chopper until he's right on top of him, though. He stumbles and falls across the table, tins banging and popping open, scattering cookies.

"What the hell did I just say, Luffy?" Sanji asks exasperatedly.

"It wasn't me!" Luffy says, somewhat offended as he picks himself up off the table.

"Sorry, Luffy, I should have spoken up," Chopper says, laughing quietly.

Sanji's fervently muttered _Shit_ because he knows he's been caught is drown out by their captain's reassurance, "It's okay." He starts scooping the spilled cookies clumsily back into their tins and Chopper gets up to help. He finds the ones a that have rolled the farthest and munches on a few of his favorites. Luckily the milk didn't spill.

Momonosuke has fallen oddly silent, holding his breath underneath the table as if he doesn't want to be discovered. It's too late for that, of course. Once Luffy has the cookies back in relative order, he pulls up the blanket covering the kotatsu and says gruffly, "Hey, Momo, scoot over!"

Momonosuke does it, grumbling and shuffling, and Luffy crawls under the table, dragging his goods along with him. He is just tall enough that his feet stick out at one end, toes bumping against the cushion.

Chopper kneels between his spread feet and listens for a bit. He doesn't feel very confident that Luffy is the best one to comfort Momonosuke, who prefers to be babied in between his fits of brazen independence, and who Luffy squabbles with on a regular basis. The more he listens, though, the more he changes his mind.

Luffy knows what it's like to be babied, he thinks. And he knows sometimes you just need a firm kick in the rear to get yourself together. He's capable these things - being soft and indulgent, and being unshakably firm

So maybe Luffy is a perfect fit.

Chopper sneaks back to bed.

-x-

(A/n) y'all ever been overwhelmed a little and then forget to do things lmao forgive any weird typeos, i'll read over this tomorrow! And hopefully my holiday break is starting and i can get myself caught up! I'm doing my best! Thank u guys for the feedback and support, it really means a lot!

-bobTAC


	6. twelve times

-x-

it has time to settle  
 _twelve times_

-x-

"How did I get roped into helping with this?" Zoro complains, fumbling with the small box in his large hands yet looking less annoyed than his tone would imply.

He's sitting cross legged on the floor of the crows nest between Brook and Robin, in a sea of colored paper and ribbons. He'd come up here to get a couple hours of training in before dinner and found them like this, snipping and tying bows and talking in hushed voices, and hadn't had the sense to not ask any questions. So here he is, clumsily trying to wrap presents for everyone - something he is, admittedly, not great at.

Robin laughs good naturedly, "You're very good at keeping secrets, Zoro, but we needed an extra set of hands."

This is rich coming from the woman who basically has an assembly line going, several of her own hands sprouting from the floor and wrapping with a flourish that Zoro simply does not possess. Even Brook is doing better than he is; his nimble fingers made for tying perfect miniature ribbons. Zoro can cut the wings off a moth from 200 yards away and not so much as graze anything in between him and his target, but he can't get this delicate paper to not crumble under his hands.

Brook at least he patience and mercy. He shows Zoro the "proper" way to wrap, how to crease the corners carefully so they don't tear, precisely where to put the tape. He does this twelve times.

It doesn't stick.

The undead swordsman hums thoughtfully when Zoro is finished, respectfully keeps his opinion to himself.

Robin thinks his attempt is ugly and doesn't bother hiding it.

"Perhaps you would be more suited to _this_ task," she says, taking the poorly-wrapped gift.

She passes Zoro a pair of scissors, instead, and a handful of flat ribbons. She shows him how to curl them with the edge of the blade so they're all springy and cheerful. Zoro wants to be insulted by how simple the task is, but it's better than actually having to wrap anything, so he does it.

-x-

(A/n) Yo! Happy Christmas, if that's your thing! Seriously thank you guys SO MUCH for the feedback it's what's keeping me going at this point! Sorry I fell behind! I love y'all!

-BobTAC


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